read. Barcelona 2026

 

Ingrid Ferrer (@ingridfh1 in Instagram)

  

For this week's blog post I have decided against talking about the Greek volunteers of the International Brigades. Instead I would like to talk about a recent trip of mine.

 

Last week I flew to Barcelona to help at the READ Convention organised by the Radical Books Coop. For three days, international publishers descended on the Catalonian capital. Most of the mornings were taken up either in B2B meetings in the Capella (MACBA) or in assemblies in the Pati Manning. On my morning commute to the Pati I could not help remember one of my old stomping grounds. The Universitat de Barcelona, which stands opposite the former convent.

 

After some to eat and a little rest, we were on the move again. First to the Sala Paral·lel, followed by consecutive evenings at the Plaça de la Gardunya which, for those of you who have never been to Barcelona, sits right behind the famous Mercat de la Boqueria.

 

Once all the meetings were over we could finally sit down and listen to key thinkers of our time go head-to-head over issues affecting contemporary politics, culture and society.

 

Thank you READ for providing a space for radical publishers and thinkers to meet and discuss some of the most pressing issues we face today. When I provided participants with their registration, I was taken aback by how far away some of them had come from. Some participants had managed to make it from the Middle East. When they asked me my name and I responded (telling them Ali) we almost immediately found common ground.

 

Over the course of READ, I met some of the most fantastic people leading the way in radical publishing. Despite the monopoly of power of the largest publishers, everybody I met in Barcelona remained confident of the future of progressive publishers. Why not though? We live in difficult times. People are growing increasingly frustrated with the information coming from our conventional media outlets. Among those based in the United States, the situation is even more precarious: for say the wrong word about Donald Trump and that might just be the end of your career. Some other participants had it even worse but I shall not divulge too much for fear of putting them in danger.

 

On the flight back to Leeds I gazed outside the window upon the landscape of the Iberian Peninsula. It was a relatively clear day - the clouds had gone walkabout - and I could see everything from mountain paths to a Formula 1 racetrack. As the plane flew other France and onwards to Britain the clouds had not yet come back from their wherever they had gone off to. All of a sudden the landscape changed. Lush green landscapes replaced the arid plains of the Mediterranean. I felt at home. But, this time, grateful to all the people that I had met and the things that I had learned.

 

Last week was like no other. Thank you all the team that helped make READ happen. Now, more than ever, the world requires collective action and solidarity to combat the forces of reactionism.

A Greek heroine of the French resistance

 

Not every phone call ends with a goodbye. Last year, a friend of mine called me to tell me about a Greek female resistance fighter in the Second World War. Elli Vallianou (or Heleni Vagliano) went to school in Britain but sometime after her wealthy shipowner of a father moved the family to Cannes in France where she stayed until the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War.

 

It is still open to debate whether Elli ever volunteered in the International Brigades. My friend on the phone never mentioned it. All she said was that an archive in Otley (West Yorkshire) possessed a dossier about her life. When I asked the archivist how it was that they happened on her manuscripts, all they told me was that it had been donated by a friend of the Vallianou family.

 

Most of the dossier covers Vallianou's involvement in the French resistance in the Second World War. Elli often fed intelligence to the Allied forces. She also helped resistance fighters escape Spain into France after the Spanish Civil War.

 

Just days before the Allied landing and the liberation of Cannes, one of Elli's collaborators betrayed her. Elli was subsequently captured by the Nazi Gestapo. Throughout her interrogation, Elli remained steadfast and did not disclose either the names nor the addresses of other members of the resistance. According to her cellmate, Elli thought only about her work with the resistance. Yet, on the morning of the 15 August 1944, her jailors escorted her out of prison to a place where twenty other people were standing with their faces against a wall. The Gestapo shot them all.

 

After her death, Elli's mother Danae sent a letter to her friend Mr. Andrews telling him about how the French General De Gaulle had written a wonderful statement about Elli. For her work in the resistance, De Gaulle awarded her the cross of the Legion d'Honneur and La Croix de Guerre avec palmes - an award seldom handed to women at the time. The residents of Cannes subsequently got together on 3 October 1944 to commemorate her life. Many speeches recounting her life and work were given.

 

The following year, the President of the Special Delegation of Cannes City Hall reported to one Captain Basin that residents had agreed to name a street after Elli. They did not stop there because apparently a monument was even erected in the city to honour her life. An article in the Daily Sketch from 10 April 1945 called her the Maquis Leader, Second Joan of Arc. In this assessment they were absolutely right.

 

Never did I expect that a phone call would lead me to solve a mystery. As I delved deeper into Elli's life I discovered that a lot had been written about her in France. Outside of France, very few people know about her. Yes, this blog is technically dedicated to the Greeks that volunteered in the International Brigades. However, antifascists like Elli deserve just as much recognition.

 

An internationalist till I die

 

Hercules Arnaoutis grew up in a rather poor family in the Laconian village of Mani. In the early twentieth century, many families emphasised upward social mobility to escape the rocky barrenness of the region. After graduating from radio telegraphist school, Arnaoutis went to work as a radio telegraphist on Greek ships navigating the Aegean Sea. He played a leading role in the foundation of the Greek Radio Telegraphist Union but when the erstwhile Greek government banned his union he skipped ships and emigrated to the United States.

In 1933, Hercules joined the Communist Party of the United States (CPUSA). He also boasted a membership with the Spartacus club: an organisation extremely popular among leftwing members of the Greek diaspora. Hercules also wrote articles for the Greek diaspora newspaper Empros. Together, these activities stood him in good stead for the International Brigades. 

Hercules did not actually have a ticket to board the Georgic, which he used to get to Spain on 6 January 1937. His daughter Dolores told me that because he was an illegal immigrant at the time, he had to travel to Spain as a stowaway. Italian Americans also found it difficult to get to Spain. Many of them were in a precarious situation because of their status as deserters in Italy and illegal immigrants in the United States. Together, they risked it all to prevent the spread of fascism in Spain.

By the time he arrived in Spain, some of the Greek volunteers had already grouped together in the Balkan Battalion. Rumour had it that a lot of bickering occurred between the Greek volunteers. Therefore, Hercules remained in the Abraham Lincoln Brigade instead of joining them.

Hercules held some important roles in the Brigades. He served as the sergeant and radio operator of his battalion. He also acted as liaison between the volunteers and their families back in the United States. 

Not long after the official withdrawal of the Brigades, Hercules boarded the Vito to return to the United States. When the Second World War erupted he joined the U.S. Navy. Although his ship did not see any action in the Mediterranean Sea, Hercules closely followed the situation in Nazi occupied Greece. In many occupied countries former Nazi collaborators faced lengthy jail sentences. However, Hercules did not hide his anger when former collaborators claimed positions of power after the liberation of Greece.

When the Greek Civil War commenced in 1946, Hercules started recruiting members for the communist resistance from his very own home. He was a member of the board of the Federation of Greek Maritime Unions (OENO) - aligned with the KKE. When the Greek government discovered what he was doing, they stripped him of his Greek citizenship and sentenced him to death in absentia.

Despite the precarious situation, Hercules still managed to travel to major Eastern coast ports to organise sailors disembarking Greek ships. In an interview his daughter revealed that occasionally thugs attacked him. A lot of Greek shipowners conspired with the Greek government against members of the Greek Sailors' Union. To make matters worse, the CIA prescribed veterans of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade to the list of anti-American activities.

Hercules eventually decided that it would be too dangerous for his wife and daughter to remain in the United States. In 1953, he sent them to live in Poland with all the other Greek refugees temporarily living there after the Greek Civil War. At first, his wife did not agree. But Hercules finally managed to convince her.

Then, in 1967, Hercules packed his bags and travelled to Poland to reunite with the rest of his family. He applied to work as a Navy officer but he quickly learned the that most of the Greek refugees had to make do with whatever job was readily available. Conditions within the community and intraparty strife also left him feeling somewhat disenchanted.

 

It did not take long for Hercules to decide upon moving back to the United States. When the Greek military junta seized power in 1967, the American Committee for Democracy and Freedom in Greece was formed. Hercules was very active in its activities. One activist told his daughter Dolores that 'we recognised the old timers from the [International] Brigades. If one of them did not show up at the demonstration we knew he was probably dead'. 

 

In the meantime, Hercules had left his wife and daughter behind in Poland; partly because his daughter still had to sort out her passport with the American authorities. Unfortunately for Dolores, Hercules fell sick and died before they could reunite. 

 

Not once in his life did Hercules renounce the internationalism that initially spurred him to join the International Brigades. The fight against fascism did not end with the withdrawal of the Brigades from Spain in September 1938. Rather it informed his view of the world up until the very end.

From Cyprus to Britain and onward to Spain

 At the young age of sixteen, Michael Economides packed his bags and left the Cypriot capital Nicosia to live in the village of Trikomo. From there he developed an interest in anticolonial and leftwing politics. Due to the lack of economic opportunities on the island, Michael immigrated to London in 1929. Picture a nineteen year old in the British capital at the height of the Great Depression. Michael experienced discrimination and hostility almost wherever he went. This broadened his horizons and his decision to join the Communist Party of Great Britain (CPGB) in 1932.

A year after he joined the CPGB the British police launched a widespread campaign to incarcerate supposed communists. Between 1933 and 1934, approximately twenty-eight leading Cypriot communists were imprisoned with sentences ranging up to four years. Michael remained steadfast. He did not rescind his party membership and he continued reading the Daily Worker newspaper - founded by the CPGB in 1930. On more than one occasion Michael and his comrades disrupted Oswald Mosley and his fascist thugs from meeting at the Royal Albert Hall in London.

The awful living conditions Michael had to contend with meant that he and his close friend Ezekias Papaioannou (SGSI: 21 August 2026) spent more time in Soho than their home in north London. Nowadays, fancy coffee shops selling matcha lace the streets of Soho. However, back then, the London neighbourhood welcomed activists across the progressive political spectrum. Both Michael and Ezekias spent hours in coffee houses discussing politics which, by 1936, gravitated towards the growing crisis in Spain.

 

Then, on 3 August 1936, the Communist International (Comintern) announced a campaign of solidarity to defend the Spanish Second Republic. Not long after the announcement, a protest erupted in London. When Ezekias heard someone spreading the word for enlisting in the International Brigades, he found Michael and fellow compatriot Tony Theodolou and went to London Victoria station.

 

Only Tony managed to board a train. The CPGB refused Michael permission because he did not fit the criteria for men with certain skills (carpentry, building, plumbing, electrical, mechanical and radio) nor possess prior military experience. On top of that, British Special Branch were monitoring his movements. As they knew he was a communist wanting to go to Spain, they delayed the renewal of his passport.

 

Eventually, his British passport was renewed. Then, after a couple of weeks, the CPGB changed its policy to allow those without military experience to go. A certain R.W. (Robbie) Robson greeted Michael and Ezekias when they tried to leave for Spain a second time. A First World War veteran and a leading CPGB official in London, Robbie oversaw the interviewing of prospective volunteers for the Brigades. Once Robbie gave them the go ahead, Michael and Ezekias departed from London Victoria station and took the train and Channel ferry crossing to Paris.

 

From Paris the two took a train to Perpignan. After a medical check-up they got on a bus and crossed the border into Spain; arriving in Figueras on 7 December 1936. They then travelled (via Barcelona) to Albacete, finally arriving at the International Brigades base in Madrigueras.

 

Membership of the Communist Party of Spain (PCE)

 

Part of his role as political commissar of the British Battalion of the 15th (XV) Brigade included safeguarding the well-being of the volunteers. Things sometimes got out of hand. On one occasion a British volunteer insulted a Cypriot by calling him a greasy Greek. Michael responded by pointing out that the Brigades was the last place he expected to hear such offensive language.

 

When the Brigades eventually withdrew from Spain in September 1938, Michael passed through the Catalonian village Ripoll before taking a train through France, arriving back in London on 7 December 1938. His wounds in Spain meant that he could not fight in the Second World War. He did, however, contribute indirectly to the war effort by working in munitions factories in both London and Cambridge.

 

After the Greek Civil War erupted in 1946 some of his comrades from the Brigades assisted the Greek resistance. Michael, however, stayed in London. As an active member of the Cypriot struggle for independence, he was instrumental in the foundation of the Committee for Cyprus Affairs, to which he later became its Secretary. In 1946, he even attended the Paris Peace Conference as part of the Cypriot delegation.

 

Michael (second right) in Dublin

 

Throughout the period of the Greek junta (1967-74), Michael attended marches and other events in London to protest the plight of the Greek people. Alongside his son Kim, he attended a rally in Trafalgar Square in 1968. Kim  still remembers the actor Melina Mercouri denouncing the junta as 'butchers'.

 

Things eventually came full circle on 5 November 1996 when Michael received his honorary Spanish citizenship along with other veterans of the International Brigades. A celebratory concert at a sports stadium in Madrid marked the special occasion. Out of the blue Michael appears on the stage. As he approaches the microphone a dead silence falls across the stadium. Michael starts reciting Rafael Alberti's 'Capital de la gloria. Madrid-otono'. All of the emotions and memories coalesce in this lovely moment, as a rapturous applause greets Michael when he finishes.

 

When Michael recited the poem in Madrid he was already very ill. Not long after he returned to Britain he was admitted to Exeter hospital. And, on 25 November 1996, he sadly passed away.

 

After Michael died the baton for keeping alive his memory passed to his son Kim. Now, Michael's grandchildren Zoe and Alex are currently also applying for Spanish citizenship under Article 33 of the Spanish ‘Democratic Memory’ law, which grants Spanish citizenship to descendants of the Internationals who have worked to uphold the memory of their ancestors. When Kim was granted this at the end of 2025, he met with me for a beer not far from the British Museum.

 

To be sat with Kim only a stone's throw from where Michael once discussed politics with Ezekias and others could not have been more fitting. Kim described the ignorance in Cyprus about the Spanish Civil War. With only two memorials to Cypriot antifascists, Kim believes that Cyprus has a ‘moral debt’ to erect a monument to his father Michael, and the other Cypriots who travelled to Spain in 1936.

When the Garrick Theatre in London hosted a Greek veteran of the International Brigades

A decade after the collapse of the Greek junta in 1974, Greek national television broadcast an hour long documentary about the Spanish Civil War. To narrate the conflict they invited a special guest. Former International Brigade volunteer Savvas Pales.

Savvas Pales

Sat in an armchair with the Athenian landscape behind him, Pales looked exhausted. Original footage of the Spanish Civil War accompanied his narration. From images of the bombing of Guernica to the rousing speeches of Dolores Ibárruri (la Pasionaria), one really got the sensation that Pales could feel himself back in Spain alongside the Brigades. 

 

 

A member of the Greek Communist Party (KKE) since 1932, in October 1937 the Party sent Pales to Spain to record the activities of the Greek volunteers for the KKE newspaper Rizospastis. On top of this, evidence proves that he obtained the title of sergeant. Perhaps in the Dimitrov Battalion.

 

Although the Brigades formally withdrew from Spain in late 1938, records suggest that by 20 January 1939, Pales remained in a concentration camp in Almussafes (Valencia) awaiting repatriation.

 

Once he left the concentration camp he sailed to Britain. Greece was still ruled by the dictatorship of Ioannis Metaxas, therefore, Pales really had no other choice. 

 

Then, in early 1940, fascist Italy invaded Greece. Outmatched in every possible way, Benito Mussolini called on his ally Adolf Hitler to come to his aid, which he did in April 1941.

 

Pales could not just stand by and watch Greece fall to the Germans. British Special Branch reports reveal that, on 24 January 1944, Pales rented a small office in Trafalgar Square (London), to carry out work on behalf of the Union of the Greek Seamen of Great Britain (FGMU). There he met with Cypriot antifascist Ezekias Papaioannou, who was residing at 7 Mornington Court in London at the time. 

 

A fellow veteran of the Brigades, Papaioannou was a stalwart among Cypriot communists in London. Long after the Spanish Civil War, he acceded to the role of General Secretary of the Progressive Workers’ Party of Cyprus (hereafter AKEL), but not before he met Pales to mobilise the Left in Britain against the situation in Greece. 

 

Ezekias Papaioannou

Alongside the Greek seafarer Nikos Karagiannis, who also fought in Spain, Pales helped get the FGMU up and running, and it is arguably through this role that he met Papaioannou.

 

On 13 May 1945, Pales attended a protest meeting at the Garrick Theatre in London. Both a man of letters and political acumen, no later had he arrived at the venue that the Acting Secretary of the FGMU was called to the stage. And, in an impassioned speech, Pales praised the Greek resistance to the Nazi occupation.

With the help of other activists, Pales played a crucial part in campaigning for the wellbeing of several veterans of the Spanish Civil War. A letter from 5 April 1944 to the Daily Telegraph, the Daily Worker and the Manchester Evening Standard highlighted the plight of Colonel Varkizidis. Whether or not they managed to rescue Varkizidis remains an open question.

 

Any trace of Pales disappears during the Greek Civil War when the trail goes cold. His fortunes, however, took a turn for the worse after the defeat of the communist resistance in 1949. A total of 56,200 former resistance fighters found homes across the Soviet Union including Pales who essentially lived most of the Cold War as a refugee.

 

When Pales voiced his opinion on a rift within the Party the leadership banished him to Kazakhstan. From a prison cell, he wrote an emotional letter to his comrades lambasting the 'political blindness and fanaticism of certain corrupt adversaries of ours'.

Most of the Greek refugees had to wait until 1982 for the Greek government to repatriate them. Pales may well have been part of this movement, which would explain the timing of the documentary: released just two years after the refugees' return.